Monday, April 23, 2012

O&R

I have been kind of a downer of late.  Forgive me.  Grandma is a bit better.  Looking like I get to be greedy a bit longer. 

Onto lighter notes.

The dishwasher was leaking.  It also seemed like it wasn't rinsing as well as it used to.  It's less than a year old.  The repairman came at 8 sharp this morning (I called yesterday) and said I was right.  It was leaking.  He threw some soap in and noticed it sudsing quite a bit.  And then said, and I quote, "Are you sure you're using dishwasher soap?".  Turns out, what happens when you accidentally throw one of those new fancy laundry detergent gel packs in the dishwasher a few times, it leaks.  Wonder what the bill will be for being stupid.  And to be clear, it was NOT intentional.  I did not realize it was laundry detergent when I grabbed the fancy new gel packs off the end cap a week ago.

I stepped in poop the other night.  On my kitchen floor.  Human poop. 

I bought a new swimsuit.  Only it's called a swim dress which makes me feel Amish and like I'm one step away from mom jeans.  No, it doesn't have sleeves.  Nor does it come to my knees.  And it's amazing. 

Discovered my absolute favorite flower growing in our backyard this morning.  Gardenias.  If you have not smelled them in bloom you are missing out.  Majorly.  

The other day Cannon said something to me in the car and I didn't hear him.  When I asked what he said he responded, "neveryours mommy"... Brilliant. 

I did it.  She's 18 months old and I took the bottle away.  Tough love for Cannon on his first birthday the bottles were gone but not for my baby girl.  She didn't bat an eye.  Someone hold me.

The tremendously talented brother of a best friend of mine designed a logo for my photography business last week.  I am blown away and humbled by his talents.  Check it here if you like.  Or here.  I'm not one for tattoos but this, I might consider.

In six days we are unplugging.  For a week.  Of vacation.  Toes in the sand, lazy days, unplugging.



Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Greedy...

I'm being greedy.  But I want more.  More time.  I want more time.  Not for myself.  I want more time with her. 

My grandmother isn't well.  Hasn't been in a while.  And I find myself being selfish.  Greedy.  I realize there aren't many 31 year olds who have a grandparent still with them.  I realize how lucky this makes me.  I do.  And I want her to stick around.  I'm not asking for years (although that would be nice).  Just a little while. 

But I have to be even greedier.  I want her around and feeling good.  I want her to be able to enjoy a few more things before it's her time.  I realize that 18 holes of golf might not be in the cards.  But putting her toes in the sand might be.  Hanging with her great grandkids a little more.  Being at home.  Not in a hospital bed covered in wires surrounded by beeping.  I want her to enjoy a few more cold ones.  A few more laughs.  Maybe some chocolate cake.

I realize this is asking a lot.  Maybe even too much.  I know I'm being greedy.  And selfish.  But I'm not ready to let go. 

I'm just not.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Dr. Asshole.

Normally when I have bad customer service I have someone to call.  I can find an email address to complain to. I have some sort of outlet.  Today this is my outlet.
I've got these shin splints.  Yes? You've heard. I know.  So I made an appointment with an orthopedic guy to make sure they weren't anything worse than shin splints and also to have him look at my shoulder.  It's bothering me a little bit and I thought, when in Rome. 

So the appointment is this morning, at 10:10.  I arrive at 10.  I'm a new patient.  I know there's paperwork.  I should add I have an 18 month old with me.  And maybe you know an 18 month old who likes to hang out in a stroller for a long time, but I don't.  Anyway.  I get called back at 11:05.  That's right.  Almost an hour.  But I didn't throw a fit. I didn't even ask. I put on my very best face and used my very best patience.  I told the nurse my issues and at 11:20 Dr. Asshole comes in. 

Ask him.  He's a big deal.  Trust me on this one.  He checked out my legs for about a minute.  Told me I have flat feet (no shit...) and prescribed physical therapy (at the facility he owns).  Then I ask about my shoulder and the conversation goes like this:

Me: Can we talk about my shoulder really quick?
Asshole: Let's do the shoulder another time. I've already spent a lot of time with you and shoulder is a whole other ballgame.
Me: I waited for you for an hour and fifteen minutes.
Asshole: You want an orthopedist you have to wait for. 

And cue my mouth falling open, him exiting, and his nurse mouthing 'sorry' to me as she leaves.

This is what's wrong with healthcare.  That asshole is going to get paid even though he did almost nothing for me.  And if I was a fool and actually bought the whole 'come back again for the shoulder' thing then he would get paid TWICE. 

So. I reviewed him on ratemds.com and I emailed my insurance company.  I've found him on facebook and am considering emailing him to tell him just how disgusted I am and how I will be telling everyone who will listen what a prick he is. 

Until then, I'm telling you. 
If you live in Tampa and want to know his name I will happily tell you. Just ask.

And here's what I've come up with for the Facebook email... should I decide to send it... but I probably won't because it probably won't make any difference and he won't care and it's not worth it... but I feel better writing it... thoughts?

I hate to reach out to you this way but could find no email address or website with any contact information for you. So ,I have resorted to Facebook.
I want you to know that I am disgusted by the way you treated me today. I would have said this to your face but I was so shocked that by the time I had words to say you had swiftly moved onto the next paycheck, I mean patient. I waited an hour and fifteen minutes to see you today (with an 18 month old) and you couldn't take an extra three minutes (after spending 4 solid minutes with me) to even hear what was bothering me about my shoulder.
Clearly your time is more valuable than that of your patients. And your response when I shared with you how long I waited to see you today was nothing short of egotistical and rude. It lines up with everything I have now read about you on the internet. I don't want to see any doctor who thinks his time is more valuable than that of his patients. Having a long wait time does not make you a better physician. Just the opposite, in fact. And on top of that, it makes you inconsiderate.
I am an educated woman with a solid head on my shoulders. To suggest that I come back to see you to waste another 90 minutes of my time so you can prescribe more physical therapy at the facility you own is ludicrous. And I'm certain my insurance company would be thrilled to hear your suggestion.
I may not be a professional athlete seeking your help to get back on the field, but I am a profession talker. And I talk to just about anyone. About just about anything. I plan on talking about my experience today for a long time.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

observations and revelations.

So. I had a physical for the first time in probably close to a decade.  I can't remember how long it's been.  And while the nurse gasped when I told her that, I'm pretty sure I'm not alone.  I think a lot of women my age who have kids just figure everything is fine.  I can get pregnant.  Have babies.  I know all those parts work.  So I'm sure the rest is fine. 

Doctor told me to give up diet coke.  All soda.  He wasn't just hating on diet coke but it's the only one I drink.  At first I scoffed.  I haven't had one in almost a week (and there are cold ones in the fridge).  I'm surviving. Don't have a headache yet.  Drinking water instead, cause he's not a big fan of crystal light either.  Funtaker.  But he didn't tell me to give up wine so it could be worse.

I was hoping for a under active thyroid to be revealed in my blood work.  No such luck.  It also turns out the scale at home is spot on.  I digress.  I am vitamin D deficient.  You know where you get vitamin D?  The sun.  You know where I live?  The surface of it.  Florida.  Everything you read about vitamin D deficiency talks about people whose skin is never exposed to the sun.  This is not me.   

Tomorrow, I leave.  With my kids.  Without my husband.  Over six days we will fly five different times.  Tampa to Nashville to St. Louis to Pittsburgh to Cincinnati to Tampa.  The only flights where I will have someone to help me with a very active 30 pound 18 month old (who doesn't have a seat of her own because why buy one before you have to?) and a three year old, are the latter two.  You're jealous right?  Or you're excited cause this can only mean one thing: excellent blog stories.

I have these shin splints.  Posterior ones. They got bad.  Like felt like my bones were gonna crack in half.  And so I got some compression sleeves.  They help.  And not just cause they're hot pink tye dye.  Got some new insoles too.  Legs no longer feel broken.

You know that boot camp I was doing for eight weeks at 5am two days a week?  Well it just wrapped up the first eight weeks.  I swore I wasn't going to do it again.  Because 5 in the morning sucks.  But I'm doing it again.  Because the only part that sucks is the alarm going off and the getting up.  After that it's pretty awesome.  And it's turning me into a brick shithouse.  That's right. I said it.

Ok.  Off to put every snack in the house into a ziploc baggie, pack the iPad, DVD player, Mobigo, 1000 cars and a flask.

And... we're off.